


Straight from the Heart

by Daudful (Trotzkopf)



Category: Dishonored (Video Games)
Genre: F/M, M/M, headcanons, tumblr asks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-14
Updated: 2019-06-14
Packaged: 2020-05-07 12:27:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19209424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trotzkopf/pseuds/Daudful
Summary: Daud and Corvo short fics and drabble responses from tumblr☾ - sleep headcanon - Corvo/Daud▼ - childhood headcanon - Daud■ - Bedroom/house/living quarters headcanon - Corvo and Daud respectively☼ - appearance headcanon - Corvo and Daud respectively♦ - quirks/hobbies headcanon - Corvo and Daud respectively





	Straight from the Heart

**I ☾ - sleep headcanon**

Daud opens his eyes and smiles. Corvo is plastered against his back, fitting into him like a puzzle piece. He would never admit this out loud, but Corvo completes him. Not just the way he holds him when they sleep, curled on their sides, a possessive arm around Daud’s waist. Corvo sees Daud, all of him and yet he’s still here, still holding on, still…making him feel like he’s more than just an instrument of destruction and a god’s plaything. Before he drifts off again he wonders whether he should tell Corvo one day how much he loves him. 

 

▼ - **childhood headcanon**

“Aren’t you clever?” The man smiles. Daud doesn’t smile back. He’s wary of men. His mother says when he grows up, he’s “got to do better than the rest of that lot.” Daud isn’t sure what she means, but he’s been trying hard to be better at everything. Maths, letters, science, sports, fighting. His hands are quick. He’s been showing off, stealing Mrs Adah’s pocketbook with their marks, making a few adjustments and putting it back before she noticed. Everyone liked him after that, even the bullies. 

“Say, boy? You wanna make a bit of coin? Make your ma proud?” 

Daud shrugs. When he puts it that way? He would like that. The man sees it too because his grin gets wider. He nods his head into the direction of the docks and off the school grounds. “Quick job for a quick, clever boy.” 

“Don’t!” Beatrici, little Bee with the gap between her front teeth says, clinging to his sleeve and shaking her head. 

Daud unclenches her tiny fingers. “Gonna be okay, Bee. How would you like a bag of sugar sticks when I get back with the coin?” He winks at her and she smiles a shaky smile back as he follows the man. 

He doesn’t remember the next few years very well. His first memory after waving good-bye to Bee is standing back at the docks, searching for his mother’s boat which is nowhere to be found. 

 

**■ - Bedroom/house/living quarters headcanon**

**Daud** - 

“Maybe when I retire,” Daud tells himself, lighting a cigarette in front of the big shop window. The bed on display is opulent. Solid wood, five feet wide, sprung mattress. A man could sleep happily and comfortably in that. 

“Maybe when I retire,” Daud mutters again and walks away. The sun sets when he opens the door to his attic room. There’s a hammock in a corner - some habits are hard to break when you’ve spent half your life on boats. He’s seventeen now. A low bookshelf sits against a wall and a wash basin on a stand with a small round mirror over it. When he catches his reflection he sees the red seeping through the bandage. 

“Damn,” he mutters. The gauze is sticking to the still fresh wound. “That’s gonna be one hell of a souvenir,” he says looking at the deep cut. One year in Dunwall and all he’s got to show for is a scar. He thinks about that bed again when his eye catches the flyer on the shelf some lady pushed into his hand yesterday. 

_It’s never too late to learn - Academy for Natural Philosophy Open Day. Your future is now!_

**Corvo** - 

He does a double take when he’s shown into his — _his_ — room. It’s right across from Jessamine’s suites. The bed is so big his whole family back in Karnaca could have slept in it. The memory makes him smile. His parents, Bee and little Corvo all squeezed together in their parents bed on rainy mornings. But that was a long time ago. Corvo swallows against the lump in his throat as he takes in the view from his window. Rooftops over rooftops. Clouds and a sense of seriousness and coin about it. Dunwall is nothing like Karnaca. Corvo sighs. 

“Do you like it?” He turns to see Jessamine standing on the threshold and immediately the world seems a bit brighter.

“Like? I’ve never seen anything like it. What am I supposed to do with all those cupboards and shelves? A desk? I mean I can write but— forgive me, your highness.” Corvo blushes when he remembers who is talking to. He coughs and bows. “Do you need me for anything?” 

Jessamine’s hand covers her mouth for a moment before she clears her throat and says. “No, not really. Just making sure you’re settling in. I’ll be…I’ll be just over there,” she points over her shoulder. “Feel free to come and visit, or, you know, when you hear me scream.” 

She giggles when Corvo’s eyes almost pop out of their sockets. He bows again. “Of course, your highness.” 

“Goodnight, Corvo.” 

“Goodnight, your high—”

“Please — do me a favour and call me Jessamine when we’re alone. Is that okay?” 

“That wouldn’t be—”

“If it makes you feel better, Corvo Attano, I _order_ you to address me by my first name when we’re alone.” 

“As you wish…Jessamine.” 

 

**☼ - appearance headcanon**

**Daud** - 

Daud huffs as he whips up the lather in a tin mug. Should he leave the tricky bits for last or get it out of the way first? Shaving the area around the scar was a bitch and a half. 

“Watchcha doing, old man?” Billie pops up at his elbow. He would have flinched if he hadn’t felt the floorboards shift a second before. Girl’s getting good. 

She is standing on tip toes, trying to look at him over his shoulder through the mirror on the wall. A lost cause because it’s been adjusted for Daud’s impressive height of 6’5”. 

“Baking pie,” Daud replies tartly. “What’s it look like?”

She shrugs and picks her teeth. “Not sure it’s gonna make a difference. You’ve a mug like a shaved hound’s arse anyway.” 

She ducks as he swipes at her with the brush, splattering shaving cream everywhere. He can hear her laughter echo off the walls as she transverses away. 

“You made me get foam all over my coat, Lurk! You gonna wash it for me, you hear me?” He yells after her and wonders where he put his spare, the charcoal one matching the colour of his hair. He wonders whether it will still fit, he’s lost a bit of bulk since those days when he still did every job alone. Come to think of it, he hasn’t seen it since he wore it when he allowed Sokolov to paint his portrait in a fit of insanity. There’s after all no other explanation why he gave into that client’s demand. Who might have it now? Maybe he should send Lurk to look for it as extra punishment and make her hang it in the Whalers’ bunk room. That’d teach her.

“Shaved hound’s arse?” Daud frowns at his reflection. “No respect that girl.” 

 **Corvo** -

“I’ve counted three men and eight women positively swooning since he entered the room,” Jessamine whispered into Esma Boyle’s ear. “I’ll be perfectly save, no-one will even notice I’m here when Corvo is around.” 

Lady Boyle tutted. “Shame, though, he hides that magnificent body under that coat most of the time. I mean those shoulders, those thighs, that ass! I’ve seen it — once, in the summer when he took the coat off. I still dream about it sometimes.” 

Jessamine gaped at her before she smirked. “True.” She admitted, taking a sip of her champagne.

“So, have you taken your 6’4” stallion of a Protector for a ride yet?” Esma asked not even attempting nonchalance. 

Jessamine thanked her parents genes she didn’t have a tendency to blush because it would have been a dead give-away. “That’s a bit too candid, Lady Boyle.” 

“Is it really, your highness?” 

Jessamine hated that shrewd look more than anything. “Yes. He’s my Protector, nothing more.”

When Esma raised her eyebrow and pursed her lips, Jessamine admitted. 

“Fine, yes, I have eyes, Esma. And even my blind aunt Elsa asked me once who that nice smelling person was who had just walked passed. He’s absolutely gorgeous and everyone knows it which is precisely how I think about him. Like a painting in the imperial gallery, beautiful to look at, but I’d never dream of touching him.” 

“Oh? Alright then? Do you mind if I do?” 

It was Jessamine’s turn to look smug, “By all means, give it your best shot.” 

 

**♦ - quirks/hobbies headcanon**

**Daud** —

“Did you… _make_ that?” Billie whispers out of the corner of her mouth as they watch the people in the street thirty feet below. Just people, neighbours, hugging each other and a few wiping the corner of their eyes as they watch their kids play in the light of the feast fires.

Daud shrugs, arms crossed over his chest, but he’s smiling as he watches the little girl walk around on her new, wooden leg. He carved and reinforced it with leather and soft padding. He had to guess the size but form the looks of it, he got it right. 

“But… _why_?” Lurk’s gaze bounces between Daud and the happy girl. “You just left that peg leg on their doorstep and—”

“Because I could. Because now she has a chance. These people are so poor they cook old boots. Now she can get around, do things. I could never make her a Whaler, but I could give her this.”

After a few heartbeats, Billie inches closer and awkwardly puts her arm around Daud’s waist, hugging him closer. “Happy Fugue Feast, Daud.” 

 **Corvo** —

The roofs are his home away from home. It’s not much, but it’s something. He hadn’t expected he would miss Karnaca that much. But he does. When the letter came, telling him about his mother, he’d excused himself, opened the window and leaped. 

Jumping, swinging, gliding, catching yourself by the tip of your fingers and moving on. That was it, really. Moving on. Don’t stop, don’t think and just do it!

He has nowhere to run to really, but he can challenge himself. 

Make it to the end of Clavering Boulevard before the bell chimes. 

Make it to the Cat’s roof and back before the empress wakes up. 

Make it to the Slaughterhouse district and back before sunrise. 

There’s that jump in the Legal District he hasn’t quite dared to take yet, but tonight he feels ready. He feels he could do anything. She kissed him. After months of clandestine looks and stolen moments of hands brushing against each other. She stood on tip-toes and kissed him. 

Tonight, Corvo can fly. 


End file.
